sThe Quiet Wart (28 page)

BOOK: sThe Quiet Wart
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Chapter Fifty-Five
Monday, 15th February. Brussels, Belgium.

The previous evening had been much the same as the first evening, except all of the group collapsed onto the table exhausted, sleeping with their backs arched and their heads on the table. All except Sean, that is; a combination of the excruciating pain from his leg and the complex thoughts running through his mind kept him awake.

*

It was now 7:30 a.m. and the guards were packing up to leave. The leader was barking orders in German, as the two other guards carried out boxes of equipment. When the leader's phone rang, he went into the adjoining room to answer it, leaving the group alone for the first time in two days. Sean's mind was a haze of tiredness and pain, as he fought frantically again with his ties.

Just then, Praew jumped from her seat and pulled a knife from the side table. Moving silently, she freed first Steve, then Pete. Sean thought he was hallucinating again when Steve jumped from his seat and in four paces disarmed and knocked the leader out. Pete quickly helped Praew untie the others, then put his hand to his lips, as he and Steve lay in wait for the other two guards.

The speed of their actions was incredible, as the two unsuspecting guards fell to the floor. Then Clive assisted Pete and Steve in tying and gagging the three mercenaries, before he joined Sean and the others at the table.

‘You're so clever. How did you do that?' Sean said to Praew.

‘I did it when we were first captured. Then Mum told me to wait for the right time,' Praew said grinning.

The Thai words Liz had said to Praew before they were gagged
. Once again, he was amazed by Praew's strength and resilience.

‘We need to stop that vote in the Parliament,' Clive said.

‘How?' Sean shrugged.

‘Release the story. That should create enough of a stink to scare a few politicians off,' Clive suggested.

‘It's too late,' Sean said, looking at the clock. ‘It'd never get released in time to stop the vote.'

‘We need to get this right. It's not the Parliament: it's a treaty change. The Parliament has no say until the first change is passed. We need to stop it in the European Council,' Liz said.

‘Yes, Liz is right,' Sean agreed. Then he suddenly realised what was happening. ‘That's why the second treaty is written differently: she doesn't intend to show it to anybody until the first one gets through the heads of state. Then she'll present it to Parliament using the newly granted powers,' he said.

‘Finally,' Liz said in frustration. ‘I was beginning to think you weren't listening.'

‘She must know that the first one will get through the remaining heads of state; she's probably lobbied them. But the second one may spook them, so that's why she's leaving it for the Parliament, where she knows it will go through,' Sean continued.

‘Yes, that's what I was saying. When the first treaty is passed, there's no longer any need for the heads of state or unanimity; the Parliament takes over and a simple majority wins,' Liz said.

‘You have to admit, it's brilliant in its method,' Sean said.

‘Yes, but how do we stop them?' Clive interrupted.

‘The only chance we've got to stop this is to get at least one head of state to vote down the first treaty amendment. If that gets through, then the EU becomes an instant federation that nobody can leave,' Sean said.

‘Controlled by a Nazi who believes that she's Hitler's granddaughter, and that Hitler himself has been cloned back to life,' Liz added, as she searched for a computer. She hit a few keys. ‘Look, there's a special summit of the European Council today; that'll be to agree the treaty change. It's here at the Justus Lipsius Building, opposite the Berlaymont, at 9 a.m.'

After searching through drawers, Clive quickly passed back the phones he'd located, that had been taken by the guards. ‘How are we going to get anywhere near a head of state? These guys have serious protection, you know,' he said.

‘Not just that. What are we going to say if we get to them? We have to assume they know what's in the first treaty change and that's what they're here to vote on. Will sighting the second one be enough to scare them?' Liz questioned.

‘I don't know, but we have to try,' Sean said, turning his phone on. He then sent a text message with a short note.
Need your help, call. Urgent, re: the attached.

‘Could you get me a few paper copies of the document?' Sean asked Liz.

Liz immediately went to the printer and started scanning the copy of the second document.

Two minutes later, Sean's phone rang. When he looked at the screen, it read ‘
PM'.

‘I'm assuming this is you, McManus,' Halliday's unmistakable voice said.

‘Yes. Did you read the document?'

‘I did, but I don't fully understand. What is it?'

Quickly explaining the situation to Halliday, Sean asked, ‘How do I get hold of the heads of state?'

‘You don't, but I will if it's not too late. If they start at nine, they'll be on the way by now and their security won't let you near. I hope they're taking calls. I'll call you back when I've spoken to the ones I have numbers for.' Halliday hung up quickly.

‘Was that who I think it was?' Liz said.

‘Yes. He's going to try to get hold of them,' Sean replied.

‘What if he can't?' Liz questioned.

‘I don't know. Why don't you go to the public gallery at the Parliament and keep an eye on Anna. I'll go to the Justus Lipsius. You take Clive. I'll take Pete, Steve and Praew. We can't stay here in case anybody else comes,' Sean suggested.

‘Okay. I've made ten copies. Stay in touch,' Liz said.

‘No weapons, guys,' Clive said to the team. ‘We'll get arrested for the wrong thing.'

Chapter Fifty-Six
Monday, 15th February. Brussels, Belgium.

Grabbing their coats, they ran out of the building and climbed into the van that the mercenaries had left in the drive. When Sean saw the two bench seats and handcuff rails down the side he shivered; how close they had been to being transported to their death. The front section of the van was piled high with steel boxes, which contained the military equipment Dorsch's men had loaded, leaving just enough room for them to squeeze in.

When they got clear of the house, the traffic on the road towards the EU quarter from Woluwe St Pierre was moving extremely slowly and Steve was banging on the horn, trying to force his way through.

It was 8:30 a.m. and they still had over a kilometre to go. ‘We're going to have to run,' Sean said.

Pulling over sharply, Steve stopped the van and jumped out with the rest of the team. They scrambled up to the footpath that ran along the park and into the EU quarter and then picked up a steady pace. Every step sent an excruciating bolt of pain through Sean's calf, but he gritted his teeth and carried on, clutching the sheets of A4 paper in his hand.

It wasn't long before Praew began to tire of the fast pace, but Pete swiftly picked her up and carried her on his back, still managing to keep up with the group.

When they arrived outside the Justus Lipsius Building at 8:44 a.m., Liz quickly pecked Sean on the lips and wished him good luck, before she and Clive continued running towards the Parliament building.

In front of Sean a mass of photographers were surrounding the entrance to the building, with a metal crowd barrier and armed police protecting the cars that were arriving. ‘Shit!' he said. ‘We won't get near them without getting shot.'

Just then the phone vibrated in his pocket. It was Halliday.

‘Yes?' Sean said.

‘I'm sorry, nobody's taking my calls. I've tried everybody I have numbers for.'

‘You know what that means?' Sean said.

‘Yes,' the quiet voice came back.

‘Is there any other way?' Sean asked.

‘It's too late. They'll all be in the room by now. Once they close the doors, they can't be interrupted for anything.'

‘Bollocks!' Sean said and hung up.

As he put the phone back into his pocket, a black Mercedes S Class pulled up by the barricade. Sean instantly recognised the national flag of Malta, as the police made way for the car to stop, pushing the journalists back.

When the crowd was clear, two people climbed out of the car: a woman in a black pinstriped suit and a middle-aged man, with greying hair and olive skin. ‘Fernardu Dalmas, the Maltese Prime Minister,' Sean said, jostling forward.

Facilitating his push, Pete and Steve started pulling people out of the way. The Prime Minister and his aide walked towards the entrance, ignoring the throng of cameras.

When he arrived at the railing, flanked by Pete and Steve, who were holding angry journalists back, Sean shouted and waved the bill in the air. ‘Mr Dalmas, I have a very important thing for you to read before you go in there,' Sean said.

Without stopping, Dalmas looked at him briefly, but then looked away.

In desperation, Sean instinctively lunged forward and rolled over the crowd barrier onto the pavement, waving the documents in the air. Dalmas suddenly turned to face him, but within seconds, two policemen were standing over him, pointing pistols and shouting at him in French, and Dalmas turned away, walking quickly towards the door.

A feeling of despondency took over Sean as he lay still on the ground with his arms in the air, watching Dalmas walk away. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dalmas turn around to greet somebody. A small girl had slipped through the barrier in the commotion and the intruder quickly passed Dalmas two sheets of white A4 paper. Sean watched in awe as Praew curtseyed, then ran back to the barrier undetected.

When Sean was unceremoniously dragged to his feet, he watched Dalmas strutting into the Parliament building holding the two sheets of paper, but his heart sank when he handed the papers to his aide, without even glancing at them and then walked away from her, escorted to the meeting by a delegation of bureaucrats.

Making his humble apologies to the police and trying to make a joke of it, Sean showed them the papers, saying that he meant no harm. They didn't appear to see the funny side, but they still just pushed him back through a gap in the barrier and into the crowd, letting him go.

‘We've blown it. He was our last chance,' Sean said, as Steve walked around to get him. ‘I don't know about you, but I think I'll go and live in Korea with Liz. It's not going to be great to be English in the coming years.'

When Praew arrived at his side, he stroked her hair and kissed her head. ‘Thanks, you did really well,' he said.

Feeling completely dejected, Sean guided the group of four people away from the crowded entrance to the Justus Lipsius Building and started to walk in the direction of the European Parliament.

‘We could still try to stop that Nazi bitch, even if we can't stop the legislation,' Pete said.

‘How? She'll be untouchable by midday,' Sean replied, barely mustering the energy to speak.

‘Not if we can tell people she's a Nazi,' Pete continued.

‘But we've got nothing to prove it. We'll never get it published, and if we just put it on the Internet it'll be dismissed as conspiracy theory nonsense.' Sean shrugged. He really didn't feel like talking and the four of them continued to walk in the direction of the Parliament in silence.

‘Wait!' Steve said, putting out his hand to stop Sean. ‘We need to go back to the house. The German, Dorsch, he was a gadget freak yeah, and unbelievably paranoid. I've never seen so much spy gear. I'll bet he had cameras in the house, keeping an eye on us.'

At first, Sean wanted to just ignore him and move on, but Steve had a point. ‘You could be right, but it won't be in the house. His guys cleared everything out. It'll be in one of those boxes in the van we abandoned on the way here.'

The reality quickly hitting home, all four people immediately flipped around and started to run in the opposite direction, back towards the van.

Chapter Fifty-Seven
Monday, 15th February. Brussels, Belgium.

Both Liz and Clive entered the Parliament building sweating and out of breath, which caught the attention of the security guards. But after some quick talking by Liz, where she convinced them that they just didn't want to miss the chance to get in before the start of the special plenary session, they were allowed in and escorted with a small group of other observers to the viewing gallery.

Unlike the debating chamber in Strasbourg, this chamber was more sumptuous, with wood panelling and comfortable leather seating. The house was already full, just managing to accommodate the smaller group of MEP's since the suspensions.

Searching around, Liz quickly located Anna; she was busy moving from group to group, shaking hands, shoring up her final numbers. Unlike the psychopathic Nazi Liz had observed on Sunday, Anna was now the confident politician, dressed conservatively in a dark suit, and walking with the swagger of somebody who knew she had the confidence of the house and the numbers to get her way.

‘Within the hour, she could be the most powerful woman in the world,' Liz said, with hate etched across her face.

‘Not if I can help it,' Clive said, his eyes not leaving Anna for a second.

A few short words from the speaker and the house was quickly called into order. The MEPs hastily took their seats, and both Liz and Clive slipped on their headsets to listen to the translations.

The first few minutes were taken up with formalities, letting MEPs know that this was an extraordinary meeting of the Parliament, convened by the Commission President, at the request of Frau Faustein.

Accepting the heavy applause, Anna stood at the mention of her name and pulled the desk mic forward. She started to speak calmly, in German, her voice carrying the air of authority that would be expected from the political leader of a huge federation of nations.

Judging by the start point of the speech, which was the formation of the Council of Europe in 1949, Liz realised this wasn't going to be a quick affair. Obviously Anna wanted to take time to gloat in her moment; to savour every minute of her final ascension to power.

When, after thirty minutes, she'd only got as far ahead as the signing of the Benelux treaty in 1958, Clive was clearly starting to become agitated, shaking his head.

It was a further thirty minutes before Anna mentioned the reason for today's meeting: the passing of a historic treaty amendment; one which would set Europe free from tyranny for ever, and finally make Europe one nation, answerable to its people.

‘Very soon now, the reporter from the European Council is going to enter this chamber to announce that the treaty amendment has been passed unanimously by the heads of state of every one of the current member countries of this EU.' Anna said, to thunderous applause from the gathered MEPs and the Commission and Council observers.

‘When this is announced, I intend to propose a further amendment to protect the people of Europe from the shame of nationalism,' she said.

Liz's stomach curdled as the noise level in the chamber redoubled. ‘Surely they know that they're only going to be able to do this because of the dubious suspensions of a few states? A fucking technicality,' she said to Clive. ‘How could they be so corrupt?'

‘Look at them. They're consumed with an uncontrollable lust for power. This is everything they've ever wanted, they don't care how they get it,' Clive replied.

As Anna started to speak again and the cacophony died down, Liz stood up and plucked up her courage. ‘Have you told them that you think you're Hitler's granddaughter and that you're the second-in-command in a Nazi organisation called the Fourth Reich?' she shouted at the top of her voice.

The activity in the chamber suddenly stopped as all heads turned towards Liz. When Anna turned around and saw Liz, shock seemed to cross her face, but then she tried to make pretence of laughing it off. It didn't fool Liz. She could see the anger in her gestures.

Before Liz could speak again, she was grabbed by two uniformed security guards and asked to leave, before being frog-marched from the gallery, followed closely by Clive.

‘Leave her alone,' Clive protested. ‘She's allowed to state her case. I thought Europe was a democracy?'

The guards just ignored him and held onto Liz until they'd reached the exit doors, where they pushed her outside and, in broken English, told her not to come back.

‘Sorry, I couldn't help myself. She's such a manipulative bitch,' Liz said.

‘If you hadn't said something, I was going to.' Clive laughed, walking Liz over to a bench in Parc Leopold, close to the Parliament entrance.

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